


Turning Time

by sg_wonderland



Series: The Time Series [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_wonderland/pseuds/sg_wonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where Jack O’Neill is the lead detective of a cold-case unit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old work that I am posting here. There will, hopefully, be more chapters to follow but each case stands alone and can be read separately.

Jack missed Donna. He didn’t know if he would ever forgive her for having the audacity to leave him and move half across the country simply because she had gotten married. He begged and pleaded and even tried tears, trying to convince her to stay. But she had patiently, at first, and then not so patiently and not at all politely told him that she was somewhat obligated to live in the same town as her brand-new husband.

 

All that Jack knew was that he was losing the best damn forensic psychologist he had ever had. Okay, Donna was the only one he had ever had, but, dammit, he had finally gotten her broken in. And now he was going to have to start all over.

 

“Detective O’Neill? Here’s his file.”

 

“Thanks, close the door, will you?” He flipped open the folder and reluctantly started getting acquainted with his new colleague.

 

He didn’t really believe you could learn much about a person without looking in their eyes. The paperwork told him the facts, but he knew as well as anyone how facts could be manipulated. That was one of the first things you learned as a cop. Well, that and making sure you could trust the person who had your back. And this person was going to have his back, at least in a limited capacity. Sighing, he turned his attention back to his folder.

 

Dr. Daniel Jackson, holder of a double doctorate in psychology and law. Who was a doctor and a lawyer both? Jack mistrusted him already. Scanning the vitals, Jack realized he was amazingly young to hold even one doctorate, much less two. He pulled another piece of paper out of the file, the one that told, as they say, the rest of the story. He liked to know where his team came from.

 

Jack’s eyes narrowed as he read Jackson’s history. Orphaned at the age of eight, he was the sole survivor of a horrendous car accident that had killed both of his parents. Left with only a grandfather who, instead of taking the child in, had shipped him off to be educated at an English boarding school. Jack swore another oath at the very idea of anyone being heartless enough to send a child, a baby really, to a boarding school an ocean away. A brilliant student, Daniel had graduated years ahead of his peers and headed back to the states and Johns Hopkins to pursue his doctorates.

 

He had worked for the FBI until an unexpected run-in with a child slavery ring had ended a promising career. His file was woefully inadequate with details, but Jack had put a call in to an old friend in the bureau and he had gotten some more detail. Jackson had been on a team that had been investigating a seemingly innocuous missing child case and had stumbled onto the slavery ring. The agent had gone missing and the assumption was that he had been killed. Surfacing three days later with dozens of children he had managed to rescue, he had subsequently resigned from the bureau upon the completion of the case and fled back to England.

 

Jack recalled his conversation with his contact. “Come on, Gail, you have to know more than that. What the hell happened to Jackson during those three days? Did they torture him? Beat him? What?”

 

“Obviously, they wanted to know what he knew. His medical file says the only injury was where they had restrained him. He escaped by breaking his own wrist.”

 

Jack winced at the thought. “And he never talked about what happened?”

 

“If he did, it’s not in the file.”

 

“What about a psych evaluation?” That kind of thing would have to scar. And more than just his wrists.

 

“Have you read his file, Jack? He’s a psychologist and a lawyer. Who better to bullshit his way through a psych eval.?”

 

“I don’t want someone on my team who’s gonna turn wacko at any minute.”

 

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen, Jack. Not with you riding him. And it’s just for a little while, until you can get someone permanent. You’re just lucky the chief had enough pull to get to him.”

 

“Listen, what about his wife?” Marital status had been listed as widowed.

 

“Can’t tell you. That happened before he came on board.”

 

Great, Jack thought to himself, orphaned, widowed and tortured. Could this get any worse?

 

*

 

Jack recalled that thought the day Dr. Daniel Jackson walked into his squad room. As a cold case unit, his team had recently reaped the benefits of all the TV crime shows and their digs had been upgraded to a large and airy office space. Lots of glass walls that Jack liked, he wanted to see what his ‘kids’ were doing at any given time.

 

As he was waiting for Jackson, he peeked out at them. Sergeants Carter and Teal’c were seated at a table, with evidence spread all around him. Photos taken at the victim’s house, there had to be some evidence somewhere about what had happened to Julianna Dodge fifteen years ago. People didn’t just disappear; someone or something invariably ‘helped’ them along.

 

He was startled by the knock on his door and looking up he got his first face-to-face look at Dr. Daniel Jackson. His first thought was that he was far too young. His second thought, following closely on the first, was that no one that young should have eyes that old. It ought, Jack thought, to take centuries to build up that many layers of hurt.

 

“Detective O’Neill? I’m Dr. Daniel Jackson.” Jack rose and took the hand that was extended towards him, surprised to find a few calluses on the palm. He had fully expected a soft English gentleman.

 

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Jackson.”

 

“Daniel, please.” Jack liked his voice; there was a quiet strength in his voice and a bit of his time in England flavored his words. An odd accent but quite pleasing. Leading him back out, he introduced him to his team and stood back to watch. He relied on their judgment and he wanted to see how they would react to him. Carter smiled at him warmly and got only a slight nod in return. Teal’c usually overpowered everyone and Jack was pleased to see that Daniel didn’t seem to be intimidated by him. He stood his ground and allowed his almost delicate hand to be engulfed in a much larger one.

 

“What have you got for us? Anything?”

 

“These are the pictures taken at the Vic’s home, the day after she disappeared. Care to have a look, Dr. Jackson?”

 

“Please, call me Daniel.” He stepped around Carter and perused the photos, picking up several of them and looking at them carefully.

 

“What do you see?” Jack stepped up behind him.

 

“It’s not what I see; it’s what I don’t see.” Daniel replied matter-of-factly

 

“And that is?”

 

“Her vanity table,” Daniel pointed at one of the close up shots. “There are several things missing. See where the rings are in the dust?” He pointed them out.

 

Jack’s team had already seen and discussed that, so he decided to do a little investigating of his own. “What’s missing?”

 

“Her scent.”

 

Samantha Carter leaned forward, seamlessly following her boss’s lead. “He’s right, O’Neill.”

 

“Most women set a lot of store by that and would have a regiment of layering scent. Scented soap, lotion, powder, perfume. Do you have any pictures of her bathroom?”

 

Carter had already sorted through the pictures. “Here. And you’re right, there’s some items missing here.”

 

“Why would he take her scent?”

 

“He might not have taken it.” He turned toward Carter. “Sgt. Carter, say you were going out of town, even just for a weekend. What would you pack, in the way of toiletries?”

 

“Sam, please. And you’re right; I’d pack my perfume, lotion, all my stuff, especially if I’d paid the big bucks for it.”

 

“And if someone had bought it for you?”

 

“Carter, find out what she used, where she got it. Teal’c, why don’t you show Dr.,” he got an eyebrow from his newest team member, “Daniel, where he can hang his coat up. Have you had lunch yet?” He shook his head. “And then take him down to the cafeteria, where he can poison himself in style.” Jack started back to his door. “And Daniel? Welcome to the team.”

 

*

 

Two weeks of Daniel and Jack still wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was good at his job, actually he was damn good. But Jack wanted to know more about him but Daniel had managed to frustrate him. All offers to socialize outside of work had been firmly yet politely turned down. Jack and Carter and Teal’c often went for drinks after work but none of their invitations had been accepted.

 

And when asked where he was staying while he was in Boston, Jack was told coolly that it was none of his business. O’Neill couldn’t stand not knowing the answer to any puzzle so he decided the he, in fact, did need to know. A simple surveillance revealed that Daniel was living in an upscale hotel, a fact that bothered O’Neill to no end. He just couldn’t explain to himself why he was so disturbed by the fact that Daniel had no home to go to at the end of the day.

 

*

 

“All I’m saying is that it makes more sense for me to do it.”

 

O’Neill followed Daniel into the squad room, his face clearly curious. “And why would that be?”

 

“Because no one knows me here. There’s always a chance that you or Sgt. Carter or Sgt. Teal’c would be recognized. I can fade into the background.”

 

“I’ve got news for you, kid, you walk into that bar and you’re gonna stick out like a sore thumb.”

 

“So you don’t think I can do undercover?” If Jack had known him better, he would have recognized the dangerous timbre in the voice.

 

“No, Daniel, I don’t think you can do undercover. In fact, I’d be willing to bet you’d be made within minutes.”

 

“Really? How much?”

 

“What?”

 

“Put your money where your mouth is. How much are you willing to bet?”

 

“Let me get this straight. You want to bet me that you can go undercover in that bar and not get made.”

 

“Exactly. So how much?”

 

Jack was starting to enjoy himself. No one else on his squad would have challenged him like this. “Okay, here’s the deal. You go to that bar and not get made, I’ll buy you the best dinner in Boston. And if you do, you buy me that dinner.”

 

“Deal.” Daniel thrust his hand out. “Now, I need a couple of hours off this afternoon.”

 

“Why?”

 

Daniel shrugged back into his coat. “I have to go shopping. I have absolutely nothing to wear.”

 

*

 

Hours later, Jack was sitting in his truck, staking out the bar. The fact that they were hoping for one of Julianna Dodge’s girlfriends to show up had, for Jack, taken a back seat to the bet. Since Jack wasn’t certain he wouldn’t be recognized, he’d roped a couple of cops from vice to hit the bar and report back to him on Daniel. He hated to admit it, but he hadn’t been able to pick Daniel out from the patrons who had entered the bar since he’d been out front. But he knew Daniel was there, one of the cops had given him a quick call from her cell phone. Her enigmatic answer to his question about Daniel was, “oh, hell, yeah!” Jack had a sinking feeling.

 

“So, whattya thinking?” Carter slid a glance at him.

 

“I’m thinking I’m gonna have to eat some crow, along with that lobster dinner, Carter.”

 

“Misjudged him, didn’t you?”

 

“Can you sit there and honestly tell me that you thought there was any chance of him not getting noticed in that bar?”

 

“Not getting noticed? No. Being smart enough not to get tagged? Yes. Face it, O’Neill, you’re beat this time.”

 

“Maybe.” He flicked open his cell. “O’Neill.”

 

“She’s heading out the front door. You might want to put a tail on her.”

 

“Got one. What about Jackson?”

 

“He’ll be about five minutes behind. Don’t want to look too obvious. And O’Neill? Hope your wallet’s fat, you just lost a bet.”

 

“Shit! Carter, you and Teal’c follow Groves, see where she goes. I’ll catch Daniel.” He watched as Carter left and hopped in with Teal’c, heading out. And waited for Daniel.

 

“So, how did I do?”

 

Jack looked over when the door opened and Daniel flung himself into the truck. And just kept looking. Finally, he turned one of the small overhead lights on. And looked some more. “Daniel?”

 

“I believe that’s my name.”

 

Jack thought he could have been forgiven for hardly recognizing him. The usually subdued hair was arranged in haphazard curls all over his head. The conservative glasses were replaced by a pair of tiny blue frames that highlighted his eyes. And if Jack wasn’t mistaken, the little jewel winking in his ear was a sapphire. The rest of Daniel was encased in leather. Jacket, pants and boots. Jack searched for something to say. “You bought that outfit just for tonight?”

 

“What makes you think I didn’t have it in my wardrobe?” Jack just looked askance at him. “Are we going to leave any time soon or shall we just sit here and discuss my wardrobe?”

 

Jack turned the light off and the truck on. “So, where shall I drop you? At the station or at your hotel?” He immediately cursed himself for the slip.

 

“My hotel?” Yeah, there was more than a bit of British ice in that question.

 

“Uh,” he searched for a polite way out. “Ah, shit, Daniel, I just wanted to know and you wouldn’t tell me.”

 

“So you, what? Had me followed?” Jack’s silence filled the cab. “You trailed me yourself?” He was incredulous.

 

“Wasn’t that hard, Dannyboy.”

 

“Stop this truck. Stop it now.” Jack was alarmed by Daniel’s trembling voice and he complied. Before he realized what Daniel intended, he bolted out of the truck.

 

“Daniel? What the hell are you doing?”

 

“My private life is just that, private. What I do after hours is none of your business.”

 

Jack leapt out of the truck before Daniel stomped away. “Daniel, this is neither the time nor the place. I’m not letting you roam around the streets by yourself this time of night.” Just in time, he managed to clamp down on the ‘dressed like that’ comment.

 

“I am an adult, Detective O’Neill, in case you hadn’t noticed. I believe I can defend myself.” He was still trying to pull his arm out of Jack’s hand.

 

“I wouldn’t let Teal’c wander around this part of town by himself and I’m damn sure not gonna let you. Now get back in the truck. Please.” They stood staring at each other for long moments and Jack was convinced he’d lost the argument when Daniel shrugged and got back in. “Daniel.”

 

“The station, I need to file my report.”

 

*

 

Jack slid Daniel several surreptitious glances in the harsh light of the squad room. If he thought Daniel had looked odd in the truck, he was downright unrecognizable now. The leather was navy and the pants were so skintight that Jack didn’t know how he managed to sit down in them, much less get them on. Daniel seemed to be totally unaware of the attention he was drawing, sitting hunched over the computer.

 

“O’Neill.” He looked up to see the two vice cops he had persuaded to trail Daniel. “Anytime your boy wants to leave the stiff squad and come see some live bodies, you just send him on down. Miaowwww.” She purred as she trailed her hand slowly across Daniel’s shoulders; he looked up in surprise. “Any time, sugar, you just say the word.”

 

“I’ll…I’ll take that under advisement.”

 

“Ooooh, a gentleman. Don’t see many of those down here.” Sighing dramatically, she ran her fingers through his hair, further disheveling it. “Love the curls, angel boy.” She whispered as she exited the room.

 

Jack looked up to see a raging blush across Daniel’s face. “How do you do that?”

 

Daniel’s eyebrows rose. “Do what?”

 

“Sit there dressed like a high-priced hooker and then blush like a schoolgirl.”

 

“A hooker?”

 

“A high priced one.” Jack comforted him. “Angel boy.” Daniel blushed again. “I have a feeling that’s one nickname you won’t be losing any time soon. So dinner?”

 

“Now?” Daniel twisted his wrist to glance at his large gold watch

 

Jack had noticed that both Daniel’s wrists remained covered at all times. His left one with a weighty gold watch Jack assumed was a knock-off, his right covered by a pair of those rubber bracelets everyone was wearing. “When do you want that dinner?”

 

“Not necessary.” Daniel printed his report and handed it to Jack.

 

“Oh, no, you won the bet fair and square. How about we get Carter and Teal’c to join us, kinda make it a family affair?” Jack swore silently as he saw the mask slip over Daniel’s face, realizing he had inadvertently touched a nerve. “Come on, I’ll drop you off. Tonight, Daniel, dinner. I’m Irish; we don’t welsh on our bets.”

 

Daniel rose reluctantly, donning the short leather jacket and following Jack out into the early morning cool. “I do have a car, you know.”

 

“How many beers did you have in that bar?” Jack pointed out.

 

Daniel nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be driving.”

 

*

 

Jack was gleefully looking forward to dinner. Reservations were made at one of the finest seafood restaurants in Boston, Jack had gone home to shower and change before heading to the hotel to pick up Daniel. When he was quizzed on what to wear, Jack grinned to himself. “Suit and tie, Daniel. Would I take you to a dive?” So Jack wasn’t surprised to see a sharply dressed Daniel exiting the hotel. He didn’t know much about fashion but he’d never seen anything like that at the mall, which was where most of Jack’s clothes had come from.

 

“Trying to show me up?”

 

Daniel froze as he climbed in. “Too formal?”

 

“Get your ass in this truck, Daniel. I’m teasing. You look fine.”

 

*

 

 

Judging by the look on Carter’s face, not to mention several patrons and the maitre d’, Daniel looked more than fine. The severe black suit and dove gray shirt fit beautifully. Jack mentally shook his head, who wore cuff links these days? “So, Daniel, any more disguises up your sleeve?”

 

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “What do you need?”

 

“Captain Rose suggested Dr. Jackson could help the vice squad with a situation they are having with a bar frequented by college students.” Teal’c offered.

 

“I don’t think I could pass for a college student.”

 

“I’m not taking that sucker bet again, thank you very much. So, out of curiosity, how would you deck yourself out to go under as a student?”

 

Daniel seriously considered. “Probably khakis, chinos, maybe even jeans. I’d go for the expensive brand, though, nothing you could buy at the mall, since we are talking about rich boys at an upscale bar. Plain button-down or a nice sweatshirt, I could probably keep my glasses. And the earring. After all, it’s all just perception.”

 

“Perception? I don’t get it.” Jack smiled his thanks at the waitress for the beer.

 

“You thought I wouldn’t fit in at the bar because of the way you perceive who I am. Then, when I skewed that perception, you did a 180 and completely went the other way.” Daniel took the beer Jack handed him. “He called me a hooker.” He confided to Carter.

 

“O’Neill, did you call Dr. Jackson a hooker?”

 

“I said he looked like a hooker, Teal’c. But a high-priced one, I did say that, didn’t I?”

 

“You did and you don’t know how incredibly flattered I was.”

 

“You’re saying that I said you looked like a hooker because I was miffed because I lost the bet?”

 

“You thought you’d get a rise out of me, didn’t you?”

 

“Didn’t I? I believe you blushed like, what was it, a schoolgirl?” Daniel fought another rush of color to his face. “And you just proved me right.”

 

*

All in all, Jack was satisfied with the night. Daniel was as comfortable as Jack had ever seen, probably as comfortable as he allowed himself around people he still thought of as strangers. They were standing in front of the restaurant waiting for their vehicles to be brought around when they heard a scuffle. “Hey, what’s goin’ on?”

 

“Mind your own business, brother.” One of the two guys who were currently shoving each other around warned.

 

Jack flashed his badge. “Kinda hard for me to do, since I’m a cop.”

 

Jack replayed the next few seconds in his mind over and over, but the end result never changed. The man lunged forward with a knife that appeared out of nowhere; Daniel and Teal’c both jumped forward. Teal’c managed to take the assailant down, while Daniel did the same to Jack.

 

“Jack, are you okay?” Daniel was breathless as he helped Jack up.

 

“Yeah, thanks to you. That was..” Jack suddenly realized the hand he had steadying Daniel’s waist was wet. He looked down at the blood. “Daniel?”

 

They both looked at the bloody hand in shock. Then Daniel’s eyes rolled back in his head and silently he slid through Jack’s hands.

 

*

 

“I can’t believe he did that! I can’t fucking believe he did that!” Jack was pacing the hallway of the hospital where Daniel had been rushed. “Did you see that? He jumped right in front of that knife. Stupid kid!” He muttered to himself.

 

“He was endeavoring to save your life, O’Neill.”

 

“I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t need some dumb kid to fight my fights for me.”

 

“Dr. Jackson is neither dumb nor is he a child. He was merely trying to protect you.”

 

“Detective O’Neill?”

 

Jack leapt at the sound of his name. “Daniel?”

 

“Dr. Jackson is fine. He’s heading up to surgery to repair the damage. The wound was fairly deep but not life-threatening.”

 

“Doc, he was bleeding all over the place.”

 

“Stab wounds will do that. I don’t see any reason that he won’t have a full recovery although I doubt if he’ll be chasing any bad guys for awhile. Do you want to see him before he goes up? I warn you, he’s pretty out of it so he might not make too much sense.” He motioned them to follow him into the ER cubicle. Jack swallowed hard when he saw all the bloody pieces of gauze lying on the floor.

 

“Hey, Daniel, how you doing?”

 

Daniel squinted up at him. “M..Okay?”

 

“Listen, they’re gonna take you upstairs and sew you up. We’ll be with you the whole time.”

 

“Don’t have to.”

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t have anything better to do.” Jack stepped back as the orderlies transferred Daniel to another bed in preparation for his trip.

 

And as they wheeled Daniel out, he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Get a life.”

 

*

 

 

They let them in to get a peek at him after they brought him back from surgery. Jack thought he was too pale but Daniel didn’t actually have a lot of color on a good day. The nurse assured them he was out for the rest of the night, of which there was very little left and took Jack’s work and home numbers, promising to call if he was needed. Jack headed to the station, where he had to explain to his supervisor and then his supervisor's supervisor, and then several others, how he had managed to take his brand new team member to dinner and had then gotten him stabbed.

 

Jack headed straight for the hospital after the inquisition. Daniel had a bit more color, but still looked pretty rough. Unsure if he was awake or not, Jack slowly lowered himself into the chair by his bed. Daniel was propped up on his right side, pillows were banked behind him to keep him from inadvertently rolling onto his back. His left arm was lying on top of the covers and his right hand was stuck under his face. Jack winced as he saw the scars on his wrists; that must have been painful. “I’m not asleep, you know.”

 

Jack jumped, in spite of himself. “Hey, Daniel, how you feeling?”

 

“Like someone stuck a knife in my back. You okay?”

 

“I’m good. Thanks, by the way. And if you do that again, I will personally kick your ass. Just so you know.”

 

“So I should have just let him stab you?” Daniel blinked several times in a vain attempt to clear his vision. “Where’s my…stuff?”

 

Jack rummaged around in the bedside stand. “Glasses are here.” He sat looking down at them. “The…they gave me your jewelry and…stuff in the ER. I’ve…er…your stuff is in my truck. When you get out..” He knew he wasn’t imagining the sigh of relief as he pictured a thin gold chain and two plain bands. “You wanna talk about it?”

 

“Not particularly,” Daniel sighed heavily. “Can I have my glasses?” Daniel automatically withdrew when Jack slid the glasses on his face. “I’m not a complete invalid. And just so you know, I’d do it again. Isn’t that what you do for your...” Daniel paused, “team mates?”

 

Jack had the distinct impression Daniel had been about to say something else, but he let it slide. “So, the doc says you’ll be here for another couple of days. Try to take it easy, will ya?”

 

“I’m not big on taking it easy. I’ve got some paperwork I could catch up on.” Daniel peered at Jack, trying to gauge his expression. “If someone brought me my laptop.”

 

“Not gonna happen, kid. Rest means just that. Rest. No work. Possibly some TV, maybe a video game or two, a few magazines. National Enquirer or maybe People, but that’s about as serious as it gets.”

 

“And doesn’t that sound like a lot of fun?”

 

*

 

Three days later, Daniel was bored out of his skull. Jack had made good on his threat. No amount of pleading, begging, pouting or snits of anger had dislodged Daniel’s laptop from the station. Daniel might have been home from the hospital, but he was forbidden, on pain of death, to do anything even remotely work related.

 

Jack and the rest of the team had evidently taken it upon themselves to organize a visitation schedule. He had dinner-time company every single night. Mostly, the visitor came bearing dinner. That was okay with Daniel, as he simply didn’t feel like much of anything. He had been hurt on the job before and always hated it. He was weak and tired and sick of being weak and tired.

 

Carter had introduced him to the Italian restaurant near her home. Teal’c showed up with groceries and made himself at home in the mini- kitchen. Jack usually came bearing a pizza.

 

*

 

“I’m not going in there, I don’t care what you say.” Daniel scowled at his colleagues, Carter and Teal’c, just Teal’c, as in ‘I have a first name and you better never call me that’.

 

“Come on, Daniel. You lost the coin toss.”

 

“And I suspect there’s a reason behind that.”

 

“O’Neill will not harm you due to his guilt over your recent injury.”

 

“Besides, he won’t bite your head off. He likes you.” They were both betting that Daniel’s paler-than-ever face would at least gain him a foot in the door.

 

“I find that hard to believe also.”

 

“Go on,” Sam shoved him lightly, “don’t be such a chicken.”

 

Reluctantly, Daniel tapped on O’Neill’s door and received a snarled ‘what?’ Oh, well, he thought, my medical insurance had already taken effect. Squaring his shoulders, Daniel walked in and eased the door closed behind him. Jack’s desk was completely obliterated by papers. “What are you working on?” As far as Daniel could recall, they didn’t have any front-burner cases at the moment, so it had to be an old case. Well, technically, they were all old since this was the cold-case squad. He had just a twinge of regret that they had solved the Dodge case while he was on sick leave.

 

“You must have read my mind, I was just gonna call you. Can you translate this into English for me?”

 

“Certainly.” Daniel took the report as he sat and began to read. “’Manford ‘Manny’ Thompson is, in my opinion, a necrophiliac. His sexual satisfaction is contingent on the death of his victim prior to the assault.’”

 

“What in the hell does that mean?”

 

“It means he can’t achieve sexual satisfaction unless his partner, or in this case, victim is dead.”

 

“He only has sex with dead people?”

 

“So it would seem.”

 

“Yuck. I was so hoping I’d misunderstood that.”

 

Daniel was busy flipping through the report. “Actually, necrophilia has been documented as far back as ancient times. Achilles was accused by Thersites of committing necrophilia after he slew then allegedly fell in love with the Amazon warrior Penthesilea. It really isn’t clear whether he actually…”

 

“Ack! Don’t, don’t! Don’t tell me any more. I don’t want to know what I know now! Need my brain washed out after that.”

 

“Just trying to help. So I take it, this is an old case?”

 

“Yeah. I had just made detective at the time so I wasn’t the lead. Ironically, this is one of the cases that prompted the commissioner to look at hiring forensic psychologists. We just couldn’t get a handle on this guy. Who he was, why he did what he did. We just got lucky in catching him with one of the victims.”

 

“And if the case was wrapped up, why are looking at it now?”

 

“Because he didn’t act alone. When we searched his house, we found photographs of him raping his victims. He couldn’t have photographed himself in the act. Someone took the pictures for him.”

 

“And the accomplice was never caught?”

 

“Yeah. The doc who examined Manny believed he had issues with reality, he might have believed he acted alone. We know better, but he gave us nothing to help catch his partner. Anyway, his execution is scheduled for next week. I just..”

 

“Second guessing yourself doesn’t help, Jack.” Daniel chided gently.

 

“Not what I’m doing. Commissioner Burns asked us to look at the files, since Manny’s attorney is asking for a stay of execution.”

 

“Really? Does he have grounds?”

 

“His lawyer is arguing that his disconnection with reality renders him incapable of knowing right from wrong. He got some psycho doc,” Daniel frowned at the term. “No offense, Daniel, but some of these guys will say anything for a few bucks.”

 

“And the resulting publicity?”

 

Jack beamed. “Exactly what I said! Burns wants you look at this and see what you think.”

 

“It would probably be better if I talked to him face to face.”

 

“Burns suggested that already. Do you think that’s wise?”

 

“He’s in prison, right? He’s no threat. And you’re never going to find out anything about his accomplice if you execute him. So, yes, I think I should talk to him.”

 

*

 

Daniel squared his shoulders before he entered the interrogation room. Manny Thompson was already there. “Hello, Manny, I’m Dr. Jackson.”

 

“Hey, do you know my doc?” His wide-eyed look didn’t fool Daniel; he’d already been warned that Manny was much more intelligent that he pretended.

 

“No, I’m sorry, we haven’t met. I work for the police department.”

 

“You don’t look like a cop.” Manny eyed him cautiously.

 

“I’m not a cop, I work for them. I just wanted to talk to you.”

 

“You want me to talk about them.” He brightened visibly.

 

“Them?”

 

“All the women I killed.” There was a bragging tone in his voice.

 

“Yes, I do want to hear about the women. Whatever you want to tell me about them.”

 

“You want me to tell you that I had help. I didn’t, you know, did them all by myself.” Manny clearly looked satisfied with himself.

 

“Yes, I know you killed them by yourself, but who took the pictures?”

 

“Remote control. Easy if you know how to do it.” There was a cunning flash in his eyes.

 

“I’m sure it was. Can you tell me about the women? Why you picked them?”

 

“I like blondes. Tall, beautiful blondes.” Suddenly, Manny leaned forward with a gleam in his eye. “I’ll bet with a little sun, your hair would lighten right up. And you’re what, six foot?”

 

Hoping the surprise didn’t show in his eyes, Daniel went with his instinct. “I thought you just liked women?”

 

Manny inched as close to Daniel as he could. “Never had a man before.”

 

*

 

“That guy is just as creepy as he ever was.” Jack glanced over at a silent Daniel as they dodged television cameras on the way to the car. “Daniel? Earth to Dr. Jackson.”

 

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking. I wish I’d brought the autopsy report with me.”

 

“Why?” Jack briefly contemplated accidentally running over some of the reporters as he eased the car past them, slipping on his sunglasses against the bright sun.

 

“I wondered how he raped his victims.”

 

“How? For God’s sake, Daniel, isn’t it enough that he raped them?”

 

“Actually, no. The fact that he raped them post mortem speaks about control and consent. Maybe he had issues..”

 

“Here we go again. How many of these whackos blame their mother for their being nuts?”

 

“Quite a few, I suppose. But he could have been affected by his upbringing. It isn’t unheard of, Jack, it’s very well documented.”

 

“Please, give me a break. Some people are just nuts and it’s no one’s fault.”

 

“I agree that some people have mental breaks that are inexplicable. But most can be tied to unexpected events, or upbringing, or drug and alcohol dependency.”

 

“So that’s someone else’s fault, too?”

 

“Jack, do you actually think most addicts wake up one day and decide to get hooked on drugs?” Daniel’s voice was cool.

 

“Get back to me when you’ve seen as many addicts as I have.”

 

“Forget it, Jack.” Daniel turned to stare out the window.

 

“Daniel.”

 

“Forget I even brought it up, Jack.” Daniel opened his laptop and began typing, effectively shutting Jack out.

 

*

 

“He made a pass at Daniel, sir.”

 

“Thompson?” Burns looked up at O’Neill.

 

“Yeah, looked him right in the eye and…” Jack stopped at the lack of surprise on Burns’ face. “You knew he would. You set Daniel up, used him as bait. You picked Daniel deliberately, knowing Manny would be attracted to him?”

 

“Not attracted, Detective O’Neill. But we did hope Dr. Jackson would be able to create some kind of a bond with Thompson.”

 

Jack was furious. “Well, he wants to ‘bond’ with Daniel. But not in the way you were apparently hoping. Or maybe you were.”

 

“That’s enough, Detective.” He growled. “If there is the slightest possibility that Dr. Jackson can get something from Thompson, I’m willing to take that chance. I hope I don’t have to remind you that somewhere out there is his accomplice.”

 

“No, sir, you don’t.” Jack bit down on the anger.

 

“Dr. Jackson will return to the prison as often as necessary to question Thompson. I want this animal put to death as much as you do, Jack, no matter what it takes. We owe that to those women.”

 

“Yes, sir, we do. I apologize for my outburst.”

 

“Accepted. And understood. I assure you that Dr. Jackson is in no danger. And speaking of Dr. Jackson, I believe he has some information for your squad.”

 

*

 

“I took a look at the autopsy reports. Manny’s rapes weren’t committed in what we consider a standard method.”

 

“Please explain.” Teal’c was silhouetted by the sun streaming through the windows.

 

“It means he penetrated his victims anally.”

 

Jack couldn’t keep from squirming. “What possible difference does that make?”

 

“Psychologically, it makes a big difference. Usually sex, and even rape, is committed face to face. By raping his victims in this method, and post mortem, indicates that he saw his victims as less than equal.”

 

“They were victims, Daniel, of course he didn’t see them as equal.”

 

“Rape is seldom a sex crime, Jack. It’s about control. Who’s in charge. Manny demonstrated he was in charge by raping his victims. The pictures are graphic. The fact that the victim’s face is clearly visible suggests a desire to remember each victim, relive that control. Although there is no evidence of Manny’s sexual preference, gender wise, the fact that he only raped women tells us that his accomplice was probably a man.”

 

“How do you figure that?”

 

“In all likelihood, a woman wouldn’t have instructed him to rape other women. If I was guessing, and it’s only a guess, I’d say there’s every chance Manny’s accomplice wasn’t the accomplice.”

 

“The other guy was the brains. Damn.” Jack swore softly.

 

Daniel nodded. “And all he has to do is find himself another Manny and he’ll be back in business.”

 

“Much as I hate to say this, we’re gonna have to get a stay of execution.”

 

*

 

“Manford ‘Manny’ Thompson is scheduled to be executed in less than a week unless his attorneys can successfully argue for a stay of execution. According to his attorney, a police psychologist was to have questioned Thompson today. There is no comment from the police about what, if anything, that psychologist uncovered. Reporting live from Camden Prison, I’m Maria Santos, for 52 News Alert.”

 

The hand holding the remote froze the tape he was watching. “O’Neill? Is that you? And who is your new friend? This must be the psychologist.” A laptop replaced the remote and after a few minutes, a smile of satisfaction bloomed. “Dr. Daniel Jackson, forensic psychologist. I’ll just bet Manny had a field day with you, didn’t he?” He rewound the tape again and again as he watched the bright sun strike Daniel’s fair hair.

 

*

 

Jack didn’t have a hint that anything was wrong when Daniel was late for work the next day. He snagged a cup of coffee and proceeded to his office, idly flipping through the mail that had been laid on his desk. A buzzing interrupted his thoughts. “O’Neill, we just got a call, guy said you might want to watch the 52 News, something you’d be interested in.” Jack walked back into the main room, grabbed the remote and flipped it on before calling for his team.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“Don’t know, got a call for me to watch the news.”

 

“This is breaking news from the 52 News Alert team. Maria.”

 

“Moments ago, I received a call here at the station. The caller stated that he was holding a hostage and identified him as Dr. Daniel Jackson, a forensic psychologist who is assigned to the cold case unit of the city’s police force.”

 

“Quiet!” Jack shouted as a babble of conversation broke out.

 

“The caller offered as proof this photo, sent to me via email. As you can see, it is a gold chain with what appear to be two wedding bands on it. We are going live with this story by demand of the kidnapper.”

 

“Son of a bitch!” Jack grabbed the ringing phone. “Yes, sir. It’s Daniel’s, I’ve seen him wear it. Yes, sir, we’re on it.” He slammed the phone down. “Come on, we’re going to see that reporter.”

 

*

 

Daniel knew he was in trouble from the moment he opened his eyes. He instantly knew that something had happened and that it was bad. Looking around, he took inventory of his surroundings. He was, big surprise, handcuffed to a chair. The room was tiny, spartan. Besides the chair, there was a table, another chair, two doors. Daniel assumed one was a bathroom and the other probably the only means in or out. And over it all, was the intrusive feeling of being watched; he had to assume there was a camera hidden somewhere in the room, probably in the overhead light fixture.

 

The creepy feeling only intensified when the door opened not long after he awakened. The first thing Daniel realized was that his kidnapper was in no way trying to conceal his face. No mask, no gloves. This was very, very bad.

 

*

 

“Why would he target you?”

 

“I don’t know, Detective. I’ve been covering this case, from the beginning. Maybe that’s why.” She paused. “I saw you at the prison, you know.”

 

“What?”

 

“I was doing a live stand-up when you and Dr. Jackson came out. You got in the picture.”

 

“Dammit!”

 

“I realized that’s probably why he latched on to Dr. Jackson. I’m sorry, Detective. The main thing is how can we help you get Dr. Jackson back?”

 

*

 

Offense, he had often been told, was the best defense. So Daniel was determined to strike first. “So, you must be the accomplice.”

 

“Is that what they call me?” He circled Daniel.

 

“I think it’s entirely possible that we’re executing the wrong man.”

 

“You’re quite clever, Dr. Jackson. How are you feeling? Sorry about drugging you, but it was quite necessary. Perhaps you’d like to visit the facility, freshen up a bit?”

 

“That would be nice, thank you.” He walked behind Daniel and uncuffed him. Daniel tried to jerk off the helping hand.

 

“The sedative might have left you just a bit woozy, Dr. Jackson. Let me help you.” Daniel hated the fact that he was right, standing up had caused his head to spin sickeningly. Reluctantly allowing the assistance, Daniel was grateful to be allowed his privacy in the bathroom. Locking the door, he did what he needed to do, washed his hands, splashed some water on his face. There was no window in this room, only the door. His captor could leave him in here with little worry.

 

When he left the bathroom, his captor waved him back into this chair. Daniel sat, his hands planted on the tabletop.

 

“I trust I won’t have to secure you again, Dr. Jackson? You’ve realized there is only one way out of here. Through that door, and I hold the key. Contrary to what you might have thought, I did not bring you here to kill you.”

 

“That’s good to know.”

 

“You have just a bit of an accent, Dr. Jackson. England, I believe?”

 

“Yes, I was educated in England.”

 

“Ah, there’s nothing like a fine English education.”

 

“Quite. So, if you’re not going to kill me, why did you kidnap me?”

 

“I just wanted some insurance that a scheduled execution will take place.”

 

“Manny Thompson.”

 

“Quite.” He mocked softly as Daniel’s eyebrow rose. “There has been quite a bit of publicity these last few days. Tell me, was Manny very forthcoming in your interviews?”

 

“You know he wasn’t.”

 

“You are the textbook example of Manny’s perfect partner. I suppose you knew that, though, used it to your advantage?”

 

Daniel was unsure how to answer that so he chose to ignore it. “It was all your idea, wasn’t it?”

 

“Oh, I suppose so. Manny was a nice red herring, don’t you think?”

 

“You killed them and then he raped them. And you photographed the assaults.”

 

“I’m quite an accomplished photographer, don’t you agree? I’m sure you’ve studied my work. I sent that reporter a picture that I’m sure O’Neill will recognize. One of your possessions.” He smiled slyly as Daniel’s hand automatically went to his neck. “Yes, your precious memento is still there.” He slipped a small digital camera out of his pocket. “I’m sure you photograph beautifully, don’t you? Oh, wait a minute.” He took the handcuffs back out. “Hands in front, Dr. Jackson, so much more effective to see the restraints, isn’t it? This picture really doesn’t call for subtlety.” He quickly re-cuffed Daniel, arranged it so that his watch would be visible and snapped several shots. “I have a bit of business to conduct. So,” he strolled back over to the door and opened it, reaching around to grab a box and slide it into the room. “The key to the cuffs is in here, Dr. Jackson. You can free yourself when I’m gone.”

 

Daniel hurried over when he heard the door lock. And investigated the contents of the box. Bottled water, snacks, a sleeping bag, linens for the tiny shower and a change of clothes. Evidently, his captor planned on keeping him until the execution which was, Daniel squinted at his watch, in five days.

 

*

 

“I want access to your email account.”

 

“I can’t do that, Detective O’Neill.”

 

Jack erupted. “I’m not fucking around here; I don’t care about your confidentiality or any of that. You are the only link I have to Daniel and you don’t make a move without me knowing about it. I don’t give a damn if you like it or not.”

 

“You’ll have to speak to my supervisor. I’m sorry, I want to find Dr. Jackson as much as you do.”

 

“I doubt that. Your supervisor?”

 

She sighed. “This way.”

 

*

 

By threats and intimidation, Jack got his access to Maria Santos’ email. So he was there when the second photograph arrived. Along with a message. There would be an execution next Tuesday. Either Manny Thompson or Daniel Jackson would die.

 

*

 

“Yes, sir, there’s no doubt it is Daniel. They’ve enhanced the picture for us and judging by his watch, it was taken about an hour ago. He appears to be fine, although the station’s medical reporter thinks he might have been drugged, by the appearance of his eyes.”

 

“He has to know Thompson’s execution is a done deal, why kidnap Jackson?” Burns reached for a bottle of aspirin; it had been a very long day.

 

“Insurance. He wants to make sure Manny gets it. After all, he’s the only one who can tie him to the crimes. Plus, it puts him one up on us.”

 

“Will Thompson finger him?”

 

“Probably not. Daniel thought Manny had persuaded himself that he acted alone. He’s in some kind of a control fantasy that he’s not willing to give up.” Jack wished he paid a bit more attention to what Daniel had said. And he had gone back and painstakingly read all of Daniel’s scribbled notes.

 

“I have to prepare a statement for the press. We don’t negotiate and I don’t want this to look like we’re caving. Either way, we lose on this one, Jack.”

 

 

*

 

Daniel received a daily visit from his captor. All attempts to engage him in conversation had failed. Until today. “Good morning, Dr. Jackson, I know it’s a bit early, but I’ve got a task for you. The police are asking for additional proof that you are unhurt. So, you’re going to record a little message for them.” He set a tiny cassette recorder in front of Daniel and a piece of paper. “Just read what I have written into the recorder, Dr. Jackson.”

 

“What if I don’t want to?”

 

“I can force you to do so, but neither of us wants to do that, do we?” They both knew he could. Daniel had been held five days in a small room with no fresh air and his meals had consisted of snacks and bottled water. And he hadn’t had his allergy meds during that time either.

 

“Just think about it, this time tomorrow, you will be out of here. One way or the other.” Daniel couldn’t hide the shudder. “Read it.”

 

Daniel reached for the paper, took a deep breath and read.

 

*

 

Maria Santos was almost out the door when she heard her name. “Hey, Maria, guy says he has to talk to you.” She rushed back. Her phone was tapped, just in case the kidnapper called her.

 

“This is Maria.”

 

“This is Dr. Daniel Jackson. I am unhurt. I will remain alive only if Manny Thompson’s execution is carried out. If a stay is granted, you will receive instructions on where to find my body.” The click told her the connection had been cut.

 

“Dammit,” she swore as she dialed, knowing there wasn’t enough time for a trace. “Detective O’Neill, it’s Maria Santos.”

 

*

 

“We do not negotiate with kidnappers,” Commissioner Burns read his prepared statement. “Manny Thompson was convicted and sentenced in a just court of law. Our interest in seeing justice served is that a properly deliberated sentence be carried out. This is not in any way an attempt to negotiate for the life of one of our own.”

 

Jack flipped the TV off. Manny was to be executed in less than two hours and they hadn’t heard from the kidnapper since yesterday. “Jack? Why don’t you get some rest?”

 

He glanced at Carter, then the clock. “I will. After it’s all over.” One way or the other.

 

*

 

“Dr. Jackson, looks like this is good-bye. It’s been a pleasure. Under different circumstances, I would have quite liked to have spent some more time chatting with you. You’re quite clever. For a police officer.”

 

Daniel was struggling to understand what he was saying. He suspected that either his food or water had been tampered with; he was having trouble staying awake. He jolted when he saw the needle in his captor’s hand. “No!” Panicked, he tried to pull away. “No drugs. Please.”

 

“It’s just to help you sleep.” He soothed in a soft voice that was even more frightening. “I told you I wouldn’t kill you. Your police kept their part of the bargain, they executed Manny. So, I’m just going to take you where they can find you.” Daniel flinched as the needle penetrated his skin.

 

“What? What did you give me?” Daniel felt the paralysis envelop him.

 

*

 

Jack leaped when the phone rang. “O’Neill.”

 

“You’ll find Dr. Jackson at his home.”

 

“Shit!” Jack dropped the phone. “Carter! Teal’c! Let’s roll. Terry, get an ambulance to Dr. Jackson’s house.”

 

 

*

 

“Teal’c, you and Randall take the back. Morrison, Davidson, south entrance. Carter, we’re going right in the front door.” He gave them the time to get set and stood to the side, turning the knob. It opened easily. Leading with his gun, he stepped into the entry of Daniel’s house. He knew the layout, had briefed them going over, Teal’c’s team would enter into the kitchen, the other team, the library. He swung to the right, where the living room was, hitting the light on the wall unerringly.

 

Daniel lay perfectly still on the couch.

 

“Daniel?” He holstered his gun on the way over, not hearing Carter calling the other teams. His hand searched for a pulse, relieved beyond belief to find it. “Get the medics in here,” he barked over his radio. “Come on, Daniel, wake up.”

 

“O’Neill.” Teal’c was towering over him.

 

“I think he’s okay, just drugged probably.” Jack quickly stepped away as Carter led the medics in.

 

*

 

Quite a crowd had gathered by the time they loaded a still unconscious Daniel and prepared him for transport. Jack held the IV bag and insinuated himself between Daniel and the TV cameras, knowing how horrified Daniel would be to be the lead story on the six o’clock news. The ambulance crew didn’t even try to tell him he couldn’t ride with them, they just made room for him in the back.

 

*

 

“I can’t tell you what he’s been given. The toxicology tests are not back.” The doctor had taken them into a small room off the emergency room. The waiting room was teaming with cops.

 

“His heart rate.” Jack knew he hadn’t imagined the concern in the ambulance.

 

“Is still pretty erratic. Whatever they gave him, they probably gave him a lot. We can only hope there isn’t any damage. I’ll feel better when he’s fully conscious. He did wake up once in the ER,” she played nervously with her stethoscope, Jack took it as a bad sign.

 

“And?”

 

“He was pretty out of it, Detective. If I had to make a guess, I’d say he’d been under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug. He was neither coherent nor cognizant, he was actually pretty combative. There were several puncture marks in his arms.” She hesitated. “Has he ever had a drug problem that you know of?”

 

“No! Hell, no. Daniel doesn’t do drugs. He takes allergy medication. That’s it.”

 

The commissioner stood stiffly. “Dr. Cutter, Dr. Jackson came to us from the FBI with the highest of recommendations and has never failed a required drug test. I have to tell you that I very much resent where you’re going with this.”

 

“I had to ask. If Dr. Jackson was given a hallucinogenic, I have to wonder why.”

 

“Because anything he remembers won’t stand if we ever get this bastard to trial.” Jack swore bitterly to himself. Daniel would probably never be able to differentiate between reality and a drug-induced illusion.

 

“Hopefully, the blood work will shed a little more light on what drug it was. We’re going to be moving him up to ICU shortly. I understand you have some security concerns?”

 

“Dr. Jackson will be under 24-hour armed guard. We won’t be taking any chances with his safety.”

 

She nodded. “I’ve been keeping up with the story. Would you like to have a peek at him before we move him?”

 

“Oh, yeah.”

 

“Detective O’Neill,” Jack turned back. “Excellent job. I’m sure this place is full of the press, I’m glad that I’ve got some good news. Let me know how he goes?”

 

“I will and thank you, sir,” Jack shook his hand.

 

“Just get Dr. Jackson back on board and I’ll take that as thanks enough. Good night.” Jack watched him walk away, maybe he wasn’t quite as bad as they all thought.

 

*

 

Daniel woke up scared, sweating and with no idea of where he was. Heart pounding in absolute terror, he was trying to escape when a soft voice finally got through his foggy thought process. “Dr. Jackson, you’re in the hospital. You’re going to be fine. Just lie back. Here, let me help you. Now, isn’t that better?” The hands on him were as soft as the voice. It helped ground him.

 

“Yes, thank you,” Daniel wheezed. “What day is it?” Whatever had happened to him, instinctively he knew it had been awhile.

 

“It’s Wednesday night. You were brought in early this morning.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“We’ll wait for Detective O’Neill, shall we? I know he’ll want to talk to you. I think he’s outside, I’ll fetch him.”

 

Daniel fell back on the bed. Something had happened to him, but what? He seemed to have lost nearly a week of his life. Finding the television control, he tried to turn it on, but couldn’t seem to manage it. Not that he could see much without his glasses anyway, but just the knowing would help him get a grip on what he had been told. If today was Wednesday and the last thing he could remember was Thursday night, there was a gap in his memory you could plow a truck through.

 

“Hey, Daniel, you’re looking better.”

 

“Jack, what happened? How did it get to be Wednesday?”

 

“It usually comes right after Tuesday.” Jack stalled. They had disagreed vehemently about how to handle this. The doctors felt that telling Daniel was inadvisable. Jack replied that he knew Daniel far better than they did and not telling him was an even worse idea. They had reluctantly agreed, with the proviso that it be done in the hospital where they could monitor his reactions.

 

“The last thing I remember is Thursday,” Daniel muttered fretfully.

 

“Daniel, I’m gonna tell you exactly what we know, which isn’t much to be truthful. You just stay calm and let me know if you remember anything.” Jack settled himself on the side of Daniel’s bed and proceeded to tell him what he knew. “So, any of that ring a bell?”

 

Daniel’s face scrunched up. “I..it’s like going through the TV channels really fast, you know? Nothing really sticks, just flashes.”

 

“The doc said with the amount of drug you were given, the chances are that you may never remember. You’re dehydrated and in need of a little fattening up. But other than that, you’re good.”

 

*

 

“Dr. Jackson was given atropine. In a large enough dose, it can cause confusion, maybe even hallucinations and an increased heart rate.”

 

“Atropine? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.” Jack followed Dr. Cutter down the hallway.

 

“If I were going to kidnap someone, atropine wouldn’t be my first choice for a drug to subdue my victim. It’s not easily obtainable and has varying effects on the victim. It took some effort to get the atropine, it would require a script. Now that we know what it was, we’ll know what to look for.”

 

“Side effects?”

 

“Atropine is not something you want to mix with allergy meds. Seizures are a real possibility,” she admitted. “But he hasn’t had one yet, so that’s a good sign. I think we’ll keep him another few days, just to be sure.”

 

*

 

The seizures never materialized and Daniel was released from the hospital, having to sneak out away from the TV cameras. He genuinely couldn’t understand how he had become a media target.

 

It hadn’t yet occurred to him that he was the only known survivor of a serial killer.

 

*

 

Daniel insisted he was well enough to work, even though Dr. Cutter had adamantly refused to clear him before at least a week off. When Jack called on Daniel, he wasn’t home. Infuriated, he dialed his cell. “Daniel, where the hell are you?”

 

“Um..home?”

 

“Don’t lie to me, Daniel, I’m there. You’re not home. So where are you?” Daniel reluctantly named the downtown hotel where he had initially stayed. “What the hell are you doing there?”

 

“Jack, he was in my house. Do you honestly think I could lie down at night and sleep there ever again?”

 

Jack cursed himself for his thoughtlessness. “Shit, Daniel, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of that. How did you get there?”

 

“Teal’c.”

 

Jack closed his eyes. All he could do was murmur another apology. “Listen, we’ve got your file, you want to see it?” Of course he did. “How about we come over after work, pick up some dinner and see what we can figure out?”

 

*

 

They ended up ordering room service; the hotel staff was practically falling all over Daniel. Protecting his privacy was a priority with them and they prided themselves on their ability to see to their guests every whim. Daniel was on the penthouse floor that took a special key to enter; Jack could not fault Daniel’s attention to his own safety.

 

It was after dinner was eaten and the dishes removed that they seriously got down to work. Daniel was avidly reading his file when he suddenly leaped up to fetch his laptop. “Got something there?”

 

“Oh, my God!”

 

“Daniel?”

 

“Atropine. Named for Atropos, one of the three fates who according to Greek mythology, chose how a person was to die. He told us that he killed them, Jack. He fucking told us.”

 

*

 

Daniel was itching to get back to work so life could get back to normal. He continued to live in the hotel while he sold his house and looked for another. He could never live there again, had to force himself to walk in the door the one and only time he had gone there. Samantha had taken one look at his ashen face and quietly suggested that he hire movers to box everything up for him. She and Teal’c had fetched his personal things for him. He had promptly sent every piece of clothing he owned out to be cleaned, just in case he had touched them.

 

Surrounded by papers from his own file, and how weird was that, Daniel realized his phone was ringing.

 

“Dr. Jackson, Sgt. Teal’c is downstairs. Shall I bring him up?” It would take one of the concierge staff to let him in.

 

“Thank you, that would be nice.” Daniel got up to unlock the door before returning to his work.

 

“Dr. Jackson, why is your door unlocked?” Teal’c was scowling as he entered the open door.

 

“I knew you were on your way up, so I opened it for you. And don’t you think you could call me Daniel?”

 

“You will leave the door locked until you have ascertained who is on the other side of it. Is this clear?”

 

Daniel realized he had been thoroughly chastised. “Yes, sorry, Teal’c.”

 

“I still have a concern for your safety, Dr. Jackson.”

 

“Okay, so you calling me Daniel is completely out of the question? I’m not in any danger anymore.”

 

“On the contrary, we have failed to apprehend your kidnapper. As long as he remains at large, I will continue to fear for your safety.”

 

Thinking that maybe a change of subject was called for, Daniel remarked, “So you brought me something?”

 

“Dr. Cutter’s final report on your hospitalization.” He handed Daniel the papers. Daniel perused them carefully, then froze. “Dr. Jackson?”

 

His answer was to dash for the bathroom. Teal’c followed only to find him being violently ill. He did what he would have done for any friend. He slid his arm around that arched back, held the pitifully wracked body, murmured soft, comforting words, rose to fetch wet, cool cloths to soothe the colorless face, a drink of water to rinse out the vile-tasting mouth.

 

“Dr. Jackson, are you in need of medical assistance?”

 

“No, I’m fine.” He gasped out.

 

“You do not appear fine. Are you able to stand?” Teal’c assisted him to stand, stood silently as he shakily brushed his teeth. As he started back into the living room, Teal’c instead steered him into the bedroom. “You should lie down, Dr. Jackson.” Daniel didn’t even protest, assuring Teal’c that he had in fact made the correct decision. He would stay and watch over Dr. Jackson, he decided, just to make sure he was well. After he had contacted O’Neill, of course.

 

Daniel was too exhausted, too sick to be embarrassed by Teal’c helping him change. When you’d puked in front of someone, your pride was pretty much out the window. “Thanks, Teal’c,” he whispered when Teal’c picked up his soiled clothes, taking them to the bathroom hamper.

 

“I will be in the next room. You need only call me.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Teal’c waited until he was certain Daniel was asleep before he picked up the phone. “O’Neill, something in Dr. Cutter’s report upset Dr. Jackson greatly. He became ill. He declined medical assistance and is now asleep.” Teal’c listened for a moment. “I assumed you would, O’Neill. I will instruct the hotel staff to admit you.”

 

*

 

Jack immediately went into the bedroom to check on Daniel. His first thought was that the sleeping form looked far too slight to be Daniel, curled up on the king-sized bed, covers pulled up so that only the very top of his head was exposed. His next thought was that it was far too warm for him to be this covered up. Without hesitation, he slid his hand under the covers and located one of Daniel’s feet, alarmed at how icy his skin was. Taking a blanket from the closet, he folded it over and laid it across the foot of the bed before creeping out to join Teal’c.

 

In response to his question, Teal’c merely shrugged. “Dr. Jackson began reading the hospital report and suddenly became taken ill. He declined my offer of medical assistance and did not offer a reason for his illness.”

 

Jack read the report carefully, unsure of what would have upset Daniel to this point. Then something niggled at his mind and he went back. And there it was, Dr. Cutter’s opinion that Atropine had been used intentionally because of Daniel’s allergy medication. Remembering Daniel’s reaction to knowing his kidnapper had been in his house, he realized how much worse it was for Daniel to realize he had been in the house long enough to find his prescriptions, long enough to do some research on drug interaction. Meaning that he had probably been in the house at least one time before he kidnapped Daniel. That, Jack thought, was enough to freak anyone out. If he were being truthful, he probably would have had a similar reaction.

 

*

 

It was an unusually sunny day for London, so much so that many people had taken to outdoor venues for their afternoon tea.

 

The waitress smiled as she deposited a tea tray on the table. “Today’s ‘Times’ as you requested, sir. “

 

Her customer smiled at her broadly. “Thank you.” He waited until she had departed before he poured himself a cup of tea and opened the paper, seemingly idly perusing the headlines until he found the article he was looking for. Letting his tea grow cold, he read every word of the story concerning the American born, but English educated, detective who had survived an encounter with an alleged serial killer.

 

He refreshed his tea and thought longingly of America.


End file.
